


Take the Right Road Down

by ostentatiouslyrealistic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Beaches, Light Angst, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-10-29 12:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17808173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ostentatiouslyrealistic/pseuds/ostentatiouslyrealistic
Summary: Beyond the grey, the mountains that towered above them were green—so vibrantly green. All of them looming up and up until they disappeared amongst the foggy wisp-like clouds. Yet on the other side, the sea spread magnificently towards the ends of the world. The line where sea met sky was blurred into a mesh of cerulean.They cruised silently, both content with the tranquility that settled between the two. Iwaizumi focused on driving. Oikawa drowned in his thoughts.





	Take the Right Road Down

_Where are we going?_

The words were infused onto the tip of his tongue, ready to fling themselves into the air in a vain attempt at gaining Iwaizumi's attention. His best friend didn't notice, attention focused solely on the road ahead, one arm resting on the open window, palm supporting his head. The other folded casually over the top of the steering wheel.

Oikawa leaned back, letting his head fall against the back of the seat with a quiet thump. The wind carded itself through his hair, rushing along his wild tufts in a continuous burst. He turned to face out the window, ignoring the sun that beat fiercely against the duo. His sunglasses couldn't do much against this heated attack, but it did make looking outside more bearable.

There were only a few places he could think of that Iwaizumi would consider visiting. With the mountain on Iwaizumi's side and the sea on Oikawa's, it was one or the other. In his case, he didn't care—both were outdoors. Both were better than being confined indoors.

He inhaled deeply, the mountain air and sea air threading together into a lovely aroma he could only describe as freedom. And when he breathed out with a satisfied sigh, Iwaizumi glanced at him before returning his gaze to the solid grey road winding up and down the mountainside.

_When will we get there?_

The question was insistent, bouncing around his head and itching like a mosquito bite that needed to be scratched. Oikawa had no idea where they were going.

Just that the road kept going and going.

Kept winding up and down.

Beyond the grey, the mountains that towered above them were green—so vibrantly green. All of them looming up and up until they disappeared amongst the foggy wisp-like clouds. Yet on the other side, the sea spread magnificently towards the ends of the world. The line where sea met sky was blurred into a mesh of cerulean.

On one hand, going deep into the mountains would be entering a fantasy world, where they could pretend civilization didn't exist. That they were free to their own will, escape from the harsh constrains of society. Or that homework wasn't a thing. That they didn't have upcoming assignments that were necessary for graduation. That they weren't heading off to separate universities.

On the other, heading toward the sea meant charging toward an infinite freedom that would bind them closer to each other. Keep them at each other's side, a symbol of everlasting friendship. Being exposed to freedom—they would imbue themselves with the same release that the open sea offered.

They cruised silently, both content with the tranquility that settled between the two. Iwaizumi focused on driving. Oikawa drowned in his thoughts.

Both of them didn't say a word. They didn't need to.

_Why_?

That was a stupid question.

They both knew why Iwaizumi had dragged them both away on this mysterious adventure. His best friend, taciturn and a tidbit too aggressive, had dragged him from the house and dropped him in the passenger seat. He had ignored Oikawa's questions, letting them fly over his stupid, gorilla head.

Up ahead, around the bend, a tunnel came into view. Its dark, gaping maw prepared to swallow them both into its inky blackness. There were no lights within—a good indicator of how far they were from starting point, so Iwaizumi slowed down, allowing his headlights to shine into that black hole.

Soon, both mountain and sea disappeared, blocked off by a wall of black, black, and more black. There was a speck of light ahead. Oikawa pinpointed his attention at the little blip that interrupted the hole that had surrounded their car.

The blip got bigger and bigger.

And then it was over.

The light returned, and Oikawa's knee stopped throbbing.

_What are you trying to do?_

Did he want that answered? It was there in his head, echoing along the chamber of questions that Iwaizumi refused to answer.

The road sloped upward, and Iwaizumi scowled. His hand tightened on the wheel and he pushed along slower than he had in the tunnel. They were both tense.

Oikawa gazed out his window, only to see that the sea was now so far down. When had they driven so high? So preoccupied with his thoughts, he'd failed to notice the route that Iwaizumi had taken. But...he also trusted him—his teammate, his best friend, his everything.

The road flattened, and they stopped rising.

Iwaizumi's eyes flickered to his rearview mirror, but Oikawa knew what he'd see.

Nothing.

They were alone.

He slowed to a stop, right where the road divided into two. At the intersection, a sign sat between the trees, its words nearly indecipherable due to bearing the full weight of rainstorms, monsoons, and the occasional typhoon.

One road led up, disappearing into the foliage, and once it rounded a bend, there was no way to see where it would take them. The other road led down, dipping into the mountain until all Oikawa could see was blue.

Their car idled as the pair stared at the signs. Oikawa glanced at Iwaizumi, who glared at the sign, his brows furrowed in concentration.

And then he turned the wheel, and they went right.

Down and down they went.

There were points where the road sloped in a way that made his gut feel as if it would rise to his chest, up his throat, and escape through his lips. But each time it happened, nothing of the sort happened. Rather, Iwaizumi's hand would tighten on the wheel and their descent would slow.

Once the road flattened again, Iwaizumi sped up just a fraction. He glanced at Oikawa and then at the radio. His free hand took the wheel and the other flicked it on. Static filled the space between them, interspersed with random bursts of sound as he turned the knob.

But leaving society behind also meant trading away their access to it. Finally, he paused on an old song and traded hands. It blared from their speakers, occasionally interrupted by crackles and warbles of static.

In the middle of the song, as a guitar solo began to rip through the air, an invisible audience cheered with it. Clapping and screaming.

Oikawa's hand folded into a fist, chest clenching, and he bit his tongue.

He flicked it off.

Iwaizumi didn't protest, and the quiet hum of their journey descended on them again.

 

_Who am I now?_

They pulled off the road, and the gradual stop prompted Oikawa to open his eyes. He blinked at the sight before him, vision filled with blue, blue, and more blue. And when the stopped fully, Iwaizumi killed the ignition and yanked out his keys. Without a word, he exited the car and stretched his arms over his head.

Oikawa watched him, hands wiping against his shorts. And then his best friend made his way over to his side and yanked open the door. He pocketed his keys and held out a hand.

"Let's go."

"But my—"

"Leave them." Iwaizumi's voice was gruff, rough with the lack of use over their short trip. He held out both arms and leaned down. Oikawa looked away and reached out to grasp at Iwaizumi's forearms. Then he was yanked up, Iwaizumi grunting with effort. The latter twisted on his heel and Oikawa slung his arm over his shoulder.

He hissed, careful to steady himself as he wobbled dangerously. But with Iwaizumi holding him up, he knew nothing would happen to him. Iwaizumi wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. Ever.

"Good?" Iwaizumi asked. Face twisted with concentration, Oikawa nodded and tightened his arm around his best friend's shoulder, elbow pinching his neck. If it bothered Iwaizumi at all, he didn't show it. Without another word, Iwaizumi slammed the door and they both started towards the water.

Walking on sand was difficult in itself. But with Iwaizumi supporting another, they had to go slow. And so they shuffled on, sometimes stumbling but never tripping. Never falling.

Their eyes never left the sand before them, and it seemed endless. That is, until Oikawa looked up, breathing hard with sweat beading down his temples. Iwaizumi was no better. Oikawa knew because he could feel how slick Iwaizumi's neck had become. But their target spread out in front of them, almost blinding with the way the sun reflected off of waves that reached toward the sky.

Oikawa stumbled, and Iwaizumi teetered for balance before yanking him back up.  

"This would be easier with my crutches," Oikawa mumbled. Iwaizumi snorted and heaved Oikawa up and closer, arm tightening around his torso. "You wouldn't have to carry me."

His friend arched a brow. "Really? Say that again when your crutches sink into the sand. Then I'd leave you near the car."

Oikawa chuckled. "You wouldn't." Iwaizumi didn't respond, just hefted him up and continued onward.

They stopped moving just as the soles of their feet touched the line where sand met water. From there, Iwaizumi loosened his grip, and Oikawa let his weight sink on his uninjured leg. For a moment, they just stood and watched.

Waves rolled forward, carried on the shoulders of currents, and they crashed onto the shore. Mini explosions splashed from their collisions, and the remnants of their momentum lapped against their feet, covering and sinking their toes into the hungry sand. The sun perched high in the sky, just as bright, just as luminous as it'd been on the way there.

There was no one else there. Just two young men on the threshold of youth and adulthood. Both of them simultaneously ready for the world yet victimized by time. Surrounded by a fortress of mountains and the wide expanse of the sea. So isolated, neither would notice if the earth came to a halt.

Oikawa made to sit, and Iwaizumi followed, arms carefully lowering him onto the sand. Both of them well-aware of the cast that wrapped around Oikawa's knee. They sank onto the sand, and that's when Iwaizumi let go. His hands dropped from Oikawa's waist, and he wrapped his arms around his legs.

"How much longer do you need them?" Iwaizumi broke the silence. Oikawa glanced at him, brows furrowed in question. The other nodded toward the car, and Oikawa hummed in understanding.

"Probably for the month. Then I start physical therapy," he answered. Mindlessly, he brought a hand forward to stroke the cast, feeling the hard bumps and rough surface scratch against his fingertips.

"You make it sound as if it's the end of the world." Iwaizumi's eyes trailed down and followed Oikawa's movements. The latter didn't let his gaze stray from the water.

"It may as well be," he said quietly. His fingers stopped moving. From his peripheral, he could see Iwaizumi open his mouth, ready to protest angrily against Oikawa's pessimism. Oikawa stopped him by continuing, "I grew up playing it. Dedicated so much time and passion towards it that volleyball had become a part of me, and I, a part of it. To be told that I can't play anymore is like feeling a part of myself die."

It wasn't a lie. The devastation that punctured his chest when he'd heard the news was like discovering a family member or a close friend had passed away. In a way, that's exactly what it was: a death within himself. On that day, in a single jump, he'd delivered the final blow.

 Iwaizumi snapped his mouth shut and inhaled sharply. When he swallowed, his jaw ticked and his throat tightened. Oikawa dropped his hand to the sand and traced indecipherable patterns into the surface.

"I know why you brought me here," he said. His finger swirled left, then right. Then it moved in a straight line.

"You hadn't left your house in a week," Iwaizumi grunted, voice hoarse. "Your mom said you'd stopped living. You barely ate, you didn't come to school, you just—you stopped being you." He paused, voice catching in his throat. "There's no one here. No team, no parents, no one. It's just us."

"I know."

"You don't have to be strong, not in front of me. So let go. Just let it go."

Iwaizumi didn't have to finish. His intent in bringing him here was as clear as the sky before them.

Oikawa scoffed, but he could feel the heat prick behind his eyes. The lump in his throat grew, clustered with emotions that welled up from the cavern of his chest: frustration, sadness, regret.

Grief.

He buried his face in his hands and choked back a sob. The noise that escaped him didn't sound human, bordering on wounded animal. Every breath he took shook and rattled him to the core. The grief was so pent up, so aggressive, that it'd found its way to every corner of his body. Threaded around his nerves, wrapped his bones, tied deftly to his soul. It tightened around his heart, squeezing it until he was gasping for breath.

Iwaizumi sat rigid with his hands clenched into fists as he kept his gaze on the sea, allowing his best friend the privacy to finally process his sorrow and anguish. He didn't have to ask him how he felt. His cries were enough. Iwaizumi blinked quickly and looked away, swallowing stubbornly.

Every tear that Oikawa shed sank into the bed of sand, disappearing with dark blotches that faded with time. His cries and gasps were carried away on the backs of the wind currents, all of which dispersed before it could reach another living soul. And his shuddering was felt by the earth, tremors racking his body like earthquakes that collapsed buildings and destroyed islands.

He cried until he couldn't. Until every tear had been squeezed out of him, every breath dragged from his lungs. Until his trembling ceased to silence.

He sniffed, wiping the back of his hands against his face, and breathed in, feeling winded. His knee throbbed, and he smoothed a hand over it, leaving a dark trail against the white surface. He turned just in time to see Iwaizumi wipe a hand over his face.

"I don't know what to do," he confessed. Even in such an open space, he felt confined within himself. The cast that wrapped around his knee bore the weight of a shackle and chains.

It was a moment before Iwaizumi responded. "Neither do I." He turned to Oikawa, face softened with emotion, but his eyes were resolute like steel. "But we'll figure it out."

"Figure it out," Oikawa repeated, hesitation and uncertainty lacing his voice.

Iwaizumi offered him a small smile. "Yeah. We'll figure it out together." He reached over and gripped Oikawa's hand in his. The strength in his grasp did wonders to comfort him immensely.

Then they lapsed into silence, the both of them watching the sea roll forward and the sun begin its gradual descent. Oikawa pulled his uninjured leg up and rested his chin on his knee. He breathed in deeply, still shakily, and opened his mouth.

"Hey, Hajime?"

Iwaizumi turned to him at the mention of his given name.

"Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Losing a passion is like losing a part of yourself. What Oikawa felt in the story is akin to what I feel, so I guess this was projection? Not to the extreme like him losing his ability to play, but more as a lack of motivation and self-worth. But at the same time, those emotions are what led to this story in the first place, so this masochistic cycle goes round and round and never seems to end, huh. 
> 
> [tumblr](http://www.shrimpyboke.tumblr.com)   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/ostenreal)


End file.
